One, Two Five!
by ericwinter
Summary: For when even a holy hand grenade can't kill it, this is where plot bunnies go to die. And then come back to life, and eat your brains in addition to your soul. My Plot Bunny farm for all your evil ideas.
1. Child of the Sidhe

Oh My Gods, I can't believe I'm actually doing this. Okay, here we go.

Welcome, everybody, to my plot bunny farm. Now, normally I would never do something like this. I hate plot bunnies with a passion, and generally have to allow them to grow into full stories. The problem, with that, however, is that I have recently noticed I do not have the time or effort to do so, and am already overloaded on stories. Every stray thought that enters my head becomes a distraction, and as those of you familiar with me will have noticed, that causes my normal dedicated writing to suffer. As such, I have decided to create this; a place where all the plot bunnies infesting my brain can go to die peacefully, and leave me the hell alone.

No, a basic explanation for this story idea. I know this first part is light on details, but I will try to explain. Basically, Lilly and James Potter were both secretly half-fae. James was the son of Maeve, the winter queen, and Lily the daughter of Oberon, the summer king. When Voldemort attacks and kills them, the two monarchs come to take Harry away. He is then raised in the realm of the fairies as both a summer and winter prince, switching between them on the solstice at the same time as they trade thrones. There is a lot more detail I could include, but that would take far too much time, and would neccessitate creating more chapters.

SO, before I let you go, a few basic ground rules for this story. One, I will be including the first chapters of all my deleted stories over time. THis is so that I personally don't forget they exist. I will eventually be revisiting and completing each, hopefully, but for now they will reside here. Two, everything else is technically up for grabs. If you are interested and want to adopt an idea, PM me with a fully written first chapter and an outline of the full plot, and I will consider agreeing.(If I sound kinda like a hardass, know that these are still my ideas, and I would at least like to make sure they go to a good home. Three, while I do not inted to use these ideas, I still retain the right to do so, and If I do, they will naturally not be up for adoption. Four, while most of these will likely be harry Potter stories, as I have noticed a trend in my writing towards such, there will be crossovers, as well as stories that have absolutely nothing to do with HP.

Well, there you have it. DO enjoy, and I will be seeing you all later.

XXX

It was cold that night. As the dead autumn leaves rustled where they still clung desperately to their branches as the shadows flickered and stirred, a chill breeze swept through the darkness to descend upon the shattered home. With it came a form cloaked in shimmering silk, the barest vestiges of light glimmering darkly within its depths. They stepped carefully through the wreckage with a deathly silence, up to the crumbling nursery. WIth only a slight glance to the still shape on the ground, the form closed on the crib, where a small child slept.

With a gentle whisper of cloth, the hood lowered to reveal a woman. She was beautiful, that could not be denied, but it was a sharp, harsh beauty. Every feature spoke of winter's cold grasp, from her high, arched cheekbones, to the pointed cut of her chin. Long black hair, glossy with living shadows that danced about its length cascaded down her back, and her eyes were pale chips of ice, unyielding in their scrutiny. Pale pink lips curved into a sharp frown as the woman stared down at the babe, a silent fury radiating off her.

"Someone has crossed a line." Her voice was quiet and cold, like the harsh winds of a winter storm, and as one pale finger reached out to trace the stark lightning-bolt mark on the child's forehead, he seemed almost to shiver in his sleep. "Who would dare harm one of my line?" For a bare second, her only answer was silence, even the quietest creature quiet in the wake of the night's events. Eventually, however, the peace was shattered by the sound of falling boots, and the room was suddenly thrown into sharp relief.

"He is mine as well. Do not forget that." The woman's eyes narrowed as she turned to face the owner of the deep voice that rolled with thunder and the crackle of fire. He was her polar opposite, rough where she was refined, solid where sharp, broad where slim and shapely. A thick mane of blazing red hair gave him a vaguely leonine appearance, and the sharp green eyes that shone with the color of summer leaves and burned like wildfire seemed almost to glow in the night, as did the rest of him. There was a warmth about him, just as the woman was cold, but it was one which snapped and crackled with power, a barely restrained firestorm to match her vicious blizzard. The woman's frown deepend.

"You did not answer my question. You still hold reign tonight." The deference she gave bit at her, but it was necessary. The man had eyes where she could not, as the seasons were against her. The rational thought did little to leash her anger, however.

"Voldemort." Was the man's answer, and in an instant what little heat he had brought into the room vanished as her rage flared.

"That monster came into the home of my children. He murdered one, and marked another?" The man did not answer, knowing her questions were not for him. Still, she whirled to face him wholly, ice meeting fire. "Where is he? I shall destroy the beast here and now."

"Gone." Again, the man answered simply, crossing his arms in contempt. "HIs body was destroyed, and only a wraith remains, which retreated at your approach. Even I cannot hunt a being halfway to Death's grasp." For a long moment, the man wondered if she would attack him in her rage. Neither would come out the victor, he knew, but still he tensed. In the many years he had known this woman, her temper had only been matched by his own. A battle here, while not only pointless, would risk the safety of the one thing they both would rather die than harm.

Slowly, the woman calmed down, closing her eyes and drawing a deep breath before turning back to the crib. "He shall need a home. She stated, and the man nodded.

"The Headmaster will want to take him to my daughter's sister. That would be… unacceptable." A small spark of amusement appeared on the woman's face, smile dancing about her lips.

"What, then? I will not relinquish him wholly to your custody. He would wither and die come the next few months."

"And I would not release him to yours. There is but one option." The smile died, and her face once again turned frozen.

"Shared, then. Passed with the throne." There was no emotion in her voice, but the man could see the pain in her eyes. Both of them held blood above all else. Neither would be happy giving the child up, even for a short time. He pushed his own anger and disappointment aside, however, nodding.

"It is the only way." The woman inclined her head, before turning back to the boy. Once again, she traced her hand over his mark, the tenderness in her touch at odds with everything else about her. Once done, she pulled away, giving the man a meaningful glance. Then, with all the grace befitting her station, she left, pulling her cloak tight about her, and leaving him utterly alone with the child.


	2. Green Eyes, Green Skies

Hullo everybody. Today's plot bunny is a longer one, but rather interesting all the same. In this, Harry is a several-centuries-old MOD, who got bored with the world. As such, he stepped through the Veil, which lands him smack dab in the middle of the Conclave from Inquisition, where he manages to become the Herald. The story, of course, progresses naturally from there, with little to no interference from the main HP world, besides Hela(Which is the name for Death, who is a sort-of friend and occasional lover to Harry, and would eventually turn up a few times.)

XXX

Lightning lanced through Harry's mind, ripping him from the blessed darkness of sleep. His eyes cracked open, before he winced as the torchlight sent a dull thud of pain into his skull, starkly contrasting the previous pain. It wasn't particularly bright, low flickers of flame dancing about what appeared to be a dark and dirty dungeon cell, but as Harry probed at the ragged edges of his awareness in a desperate attempt to figure out where he was, the man wasn't to surprised to realise he was in terrible shape. HIs body was bruised and battered, with deep pools of pain scattered evenly throughout, and his brain felt like someone had smashed it flat with a mallet before tossing it through a blender. More concerning, however, and the thing that forced Harry to keep his eyes open and refuse the last dregs of sleep trying to keep hold of him, was a sharp burning sensation, pulling at his magic with every passing second. In the wizard's long, long experience, there was very little that could interfere with anyone's magical core, let alone such his whole attention was suddenly focused on the blazing green mark etched deep into the skin of his hand as he tried to rise from his kneeling position on the hard stone floor, before quickly being pulled down by the weight of chains around his wrists. What the fuck happened? The last thing Harry remembered was stepping through that damned Veil.

Creeeeeeak. Harry's head snapped up, cold green eyes narrowing as he watched the door to his cell swing open. The two women who came stalking in wore strange clothing, matching outfits of leather and steel armor. The first, with an incredibly stern expression that reminded Harry of his once-professor McGonagall and wearing the steel, had an intriguing design embossed across her chest, that of a sword overlaid by an open eye. She was a warrior, he could tell, with all the hard and solid movements of one well used to fighting on the frontlines of battle. The other, by contrast, was far more graceful and reserved, though no less lethal, and wearing a dark blue hood.

"Tell me why we shouldn't kill you now!" Harry cocked his head at the sudden question, spoken with a savage anger by the warrior. Her accent was odd, almost french but not quite. He should know, having heard many variations of the language and its speakers over the years.

"Perhaps because it would be rude to execute a man without even informing him of his crime?" Harry replied after several seconds of trying to puzzle out exactly what reasons this woman could have for wanting him dead. To be fair, there had been a lot of people with similar desires, and just as many reasons. This one seemed different, however. It seemed almost as if she didn't want to kill him, but couldn't quite bring herself to believe he didn't deserve it.

"Do you think this is funny?" THe woman snarled back, and Harry felt tempted to flinch from the sheer heat of his rage, even as he watched the pain shining in her eyes. "Was destroying the Conclave and killing the Divine just a joke to you?"For a second, the woman's hand strayed to the sword on her hip, as if she was about to draw the weapon and lash out at Harry, but before she could continue, a gloved hand had reached out and took her wrist in an iron grip, the hooded woman having appeared at her side almost faster than Harry could follow.

"We need him alive, Cassandra." She said softly, speaking in that same, not-quite french accent. The two women's eyes met, and Harry felt an amused smirk trying to climb its way onto his face as he watched them clash. The man pushed it down, however, recognising the strife such an expression would cause. He had little idea what these people were talking about, let alone why he was bound in chains, but obviously laughing would not convince them of his innocence, whatever the case. Finally, however, it seemed the hooded woman won the silent argument, Cassandra turning away with a huff. The victor then turned back to Harry, crouching down to look directly into his eyes.

"Explain this." She asked, gently taking his hand and holding it up between them. Harry grimaced, glancing down at the mark as it spasmed, tearing once again at his magic, before sharpening his gaze once again on the woman's eyes, an odd color that seemed to shift between pale blue and cold green.

"I was rather hoping you could." He said, cracking a crooked smile.

"How can you not know?" She asked with an incredulous voice, but her eyes remained sharp and steady, studying him carefully.

"Seems my memory's a bit wonky." HE answered, smile stretching just a bit as her eyes widened. "I can't remember anything for, oh… the last seventy two hours or so, at least." Well, that was actually rather generous, Harry thought, but the pain and anger in Cassandra's eyes, and to a more controlled extent the hooded woman's, was far too raw to not have happened in the last day or two.

"So you don't remember the Conclave." She finally said, releasing his hand with a disappointed scowl and stepping back. Harry raised an eyebrow. There was that word again. What Conclave were they talking about?

"Bird, I don't even know what the Conclave is, let alone what happened there. This Divine person either." Harry smirked as for the first time, the woman wore a clear expression, shock and confusion clouding her features.

"How can you not know about the Divine?" She asked, and Harry's eyebrow rose again. He had expected them to be more worried about this conclave thing than whoever this divine person was, since it was more the focus of their conversations. Apparently, he was wrong.

"I'm, not exactly from around here." He replied, before mentally cursing himself. Of course, he didn't know exactly where here was, but he knew at the very least that this was not Earth. For one thing, there was the mark. It carried a sense of otherworldliness, that faint hint of wrong that he had long since become accustomed to. The magic of it was something he had never seen or felt before, and he could feel a similar energy surrounding them, a sort of second skin to the air they breathed, though it writhed in pain as the three spoke. Whatever the case, this was not his home.

"But everyone knows the Divine. Even the Qunari know her." The redheaded woman's words broke through Harry's train of thought, and he silently cursed again. From the tone of her voice, everyone meant everyone. As in, the whole world. Well, there goes my plan of being from a distant realm. Harry took a deep breath, before meeting her squarely in the eye. This was not going to go over well.

"When I say I'm not from around here, I really mean here. I'm… from another world." Harry had expected disbelief, maybe even an accusation of insanity, as a reaction. Thus, he was quite surprised when rather than stares and snorts of derision, his words were met by the cold steel of Cassandra's blade pressed against his throat seconds after they escaped his lips, and even the woman with strange eyes had taken a step back, every muscle tensing and her hand reaching for hidden daggers beneath her sleeves.

"You are a spirit from the Fade?" the warrior growled, and Harry's expression froze as the sharp edge of her blade bit into his flesh ever so glanced between the two women, shocked at the fear that suddenly permeated the air. This was… unexpected.

"I am flesh and blood as you are," He answered quietly, careful to move as little as possible. "I know not what Fade you speak of, but I assure you, I am no spirit. Merely a traveler, passing through the Veil of Death from my world and into yours." For a long moment, all was silent as the two women stared at him, shock and suspicion mixing on their tension was finally broken, however, when Harry's mark gave yet another pulse, drawing a strangled gasp from him. That one had hurt, more than the previous two, and he only just stopped himself from doubling over and sending Cassandra's blade through his neck.

"Go to the forward camp, Leliana." Cassandra said quietly, withdrawing her sword and sheathing other woman met her eyes for a moment. "I will bring the prisoner to the rift." Finally, she nodded, before turning and leaving without another , having collapsed to the ground and cradling his hand as it throbbed dully with the aftershocks, offered Cassandra a thankful grimace when she set about undoing his chains.

"So does this mean you believe me?" He asked, trying for a wry smile, before wincing as his voice cracked from the pain.

"No." Was the woman's stern answer, before she paused, giving him a considering look. "But perhaps I can give you a chance to prove what you say is true." She dropped the last chain to the ground with a loud jingling, before pulling Harry up roughly. Then, without any more warning, She started towards the door, pulling the dark-haired man behind. Harry didn't put up any fight, however. He was too busy wondering what she could possibly have meant.

XXX

Cassandra frowned as she looked at the man beside her from the corner of her eye as he winced and raised his bound hands to block out the sunlight glinting off the snow which had given the Frostback Mountains their name. He was young, eighteen at the most, with messy black hair that looked like he had just walked through a storm and piercing green eyes the color of summer leaves, but had spoken with a maturity and weight that belied his age even while imprisoned for a crime he clearly did not remember, if the man was even guilty

What's your name?" She asked suddenly, realizing that she had no idea how to even address him. The man's eyes snapped towards her with that same unsettling intensity he had shown before, his hands already lowered slightly as he became more used to the light.

"Harry. Harry Potter." He replied simply, but there was a faint hint of apprehension as he said it. Cassandra's eyes narrowed slightly, but she let it go.

"I have never heard of any Potter's before." She commented, before almost jumping in surprise as a big grin split his face.

"Well that's a first." he said jovially, and the seeker found herself frowning once again.

"Were you well-known, where you came from?" SHe asked, curious. The young man had claimed to be from another world, though not the fade, and while she found the likelihood of that to be extremely low, it was quite obvious from both his accent and the strange robes he wore that at the very least from some obscure, far-off corner of Thedas, if not somewhere else entirely. There had long been rumors and speculation of other continents. Perhaps this Harry was somehow from one of them.

"LIke you wouldn't believe." Came his exasperated answer, and Cassandra raised an eyebrow at the annoyance in his tone. Before she could ask any further, however, Harry frowned, green eyes darkening as they took in the surroundings.

"What happened here?" He asked, a sad edge to his voice as he took in the camp. Two long days of war with the unrelenting demon tides pouring from the Breach had taken its toll on Cassandra's forces, and every face in sight was hardened with fear and loss.

"That happened." She raised a gauntleted hand to point at the Breach, and there came a sharp breath beside her.

"That… is a bloody big hole in the sky." Cassandra smiled slightly at his words, but it died quickly, and she turned to face him fully.

"Aye, she said, eyeing him seriously. "And it's our job to stop it before it swallows the world." For a second, Cassandra expected the man to make a joke or make a quip, something that had been ever forthcoming since the first time he opened his mouth in her presence, but surprisingly, Harry only frowned, studying the green tear in the sky intently.

"And how are we to do that?"He asked, not a hint of doubt in his voice. For some reason, that gave Cassandra comfort.

"There is an elf by the name of Solas. He believes he can seal the Breach. With the help of that thing on your hand." Harry nodded, humming slightly, before pausing and cocking his head curiously at Cassandra.

"Elf?" He asked in confusion. Cassandra nodded.

"Yes. You know, pointy ears?" Feeling incredibly silly, she held up her hands to her ears, miming to make her point clear. WHen a wicked grin crossed his face, Cassandra huffed dropping them.

"I somehow get the feeling our definitions of elves are very different."He said, and for a second, Cassandra wondered what he could mean by that. Before she could ask, however, the sky seemed to buck, and Harry stiffened, his hand clenching tightly.

"Each time the Breach expands, your mark spreads, and it is killing you." She said once it had finally stopped, and he turned eyes darkened with pain towards her. "We believe the mark may be the key to stopping the Breach." For a long moment, the dark-haired man stared at her, studying. Then, finally, he sighed.

"THere's more to this than just a hole in the sky, isn't there." He stated, catching Cassandra off-guard. She hadn't expected that, but offered a nod.

"The breach is a rift into the Fade, the world of demons. It is not the only one, but it is the first, and the largest. The explosion at the Conclave caused it, and we have been fighting for our very survival ever since." Harry snorted than, a cold, derisive sound that seemed almost at odds with his usual sounds, earning him a sharp look from Cassandra.

"No mere explosion caused that," He said by way of explanation, before flapping his still-bound hands, the green mark displayed prominently. "Let alone this. I don't know much about this Fade, it's true, and I certainly don't know what could have caused all of this," He gestured to the camp and the sky, face twisting as his gaze crossed the war-torn and blasted landscape, "but whatever it was, it was powerful. Extremely, magically powerful. I know of only one being capable of doing such a thing, and trust me, she has far better things to do than going around blowing up some sort of meeting."

Cassandra gaped at the man as he stopped speaking, turning to look at the Breach, his face flattening into something utterly unreadable. She moved to say something, although she wasn't quite sure what, but was cut off as he spoke once again.

"Tell me, Cassandra, what is this world called?" Cassandra frowned, once again balking internally at his insistence that he was from another world, but answered.

"Thedas."

"And that Breach threatens to destroy everything?" His voice was so plain, so even, Cassandra had no idea what he was getting she told him the only truth she could.

"Yes." Harry smiled then, a cold, wicked thing that sent shivers down her spine. It was the sort of smile an old soldier wears when called to battle once more, the long-forgotten drums of war beating in their ears. There was an edge to the man now as he returned his gaze to the horizon, blazing with poisonous green light and the world burning around him, that of a deadly predator on the prowl once again.

" It's been awhile since I saved a world." He mused, before flashing a grin at Cassandra. "Let's get going then, shall we?"

XXX

As Harry followed Cassandra through the war camp and out into the blasted mountain landscape, he found himself struggling not to smile as the long forgotten thrill of adrenaline raced through his veins. It had been so long since he faced anything truly challenging, since the thought of battle got his blood pumping and his heart pounding like the beat of a drum. When he stepped through the Veil into this new world of Thedas, there had been a great many reasons. One of the most prominent, however, was boredom. Once, he may have cursed his seemingly never-ending fate to save the world from destruction, but now he found himself thankful. Closing a giant hole in the sky as the world fell apart around him was just the sort of adventure he needed.

"So… where exactly are we?" Harry asked, ruffling his hair with one hand. Cassandra had finally cut them free as they left, promising him a fair trial at the very least. Harry found he couldn't complain about that.

"The Frostback Mountains," She replied brusquely, not turning to look back at him. "Near a village by the name of Haven." Harry nodded, storing the information away. It might prove useful later on.

"And what exactly convinced you guys that I was the culprit for blowing up this Conclave of yours? Other than the mark, I mean." That got a reaction from her, the warrior woman glancing at him from the corner of her eye.

"You… fell out of the Fade." She said finally, her voice hardened with fear and disbelief. "All we know is that there was a woman behind you when you came." Harry raised an eyebrow at that, a spark of curiosity lighting in his mind. He hadn't come with any sort of woman, and despite the amount of credit he would happily give his ability to charm, the man doubted he had somehow found a lover in his short time on Thedas. So who might this woman be? He sighed, before pushing the question away. There was only one person he could possibly think of, and he certainly didn't want her involved. At least, not yet.

As they started to cross over a large stone bridge, Harry fell silent, musing over everything had learned. Halfway across the structure, there was a sudden shrieking through the the air, and a massive stone burning with green fire crashed right in front of them, tearing the bridge in two. Long-trained instincts, honed through nearly a century of battle and training, had Harry rolling as he fell, and he landed in a cat-like crouch. Cassandra landed beside him, not quite as graceful, but still unharmed. As Harry shook his head to clear it, however, there was a burst of green light in front of them, a figure materialized inside a short second, Harry thought it might be a dementor, with the grey clammy skin and dark robes those dark beings possessed. As it fully appeared, however, stepping out of the fading light and roaring at the two of them, he realized that the shape was all wrong, with a hunched back and claws rather than the cold, gnarled hands of a dementor. This must be one of the demons Cassandra had spoken of.

"Stay behind me!" Harry's head snapped to look at the warrior in surprise as she charged towards the creature, shield raised high and her sword drawn. The wizard opened his mouth to speak, to warn her to hold on and think before charging into battle, but his attention was drawn away as the ground directly in front of him started to bubble with the green light he was already starting to truly hate. Harry took a short step back as yet another demon started to rise from the bubbling pit, mind quickening to a lightning intensity as he catalogued his surroundings. Cassandra was too far ahead to have noticed, and too busy dealing with the first demon to help anyways. Harry was wearing his every-day robes, which while keeping him comfortably warm against the snow, would offer little protection against the sharp claws of the demon… and, he realised with a vicious wave of relief, he could feel two familiar pressures pushing into his wrists, the only weapons he would ever need.

With a subtle flick, Harry slid the two wands out of their holsters, elder and holly wood gleaming in the bright light. He waved the right, his Holly, creating an invisible barrier which clanged as the demon crashed into it. As the beast fell back, he silently summoned a crackling bolt of lightning to wrap around the Elder in his other hand, grinning widely at the familiar rush of power as he delved into his magic once again. The sensation was somewhat strained of course, with his core being pulled and tugged at by the mark on his hand, but he was more than powerful and skilled enough to ignore it, and the lightning bolt tore through the demon with ease, shattering it in a shrieking cry of soon as its body faded, likely returned to whatever hell-hole it had come from, he turned to help Cassandra, only to find the woman rushing up to him, the tip of her blade pressed against his throat as she growled.

"Drop it, mage!" Harry stared at her, bewildered, before his face hardened, and he flicked a quiet disarmer at her. The woman cried out as her blade went flying, but froze as Harry pressed his Holly wand into her throat. Her eyes widened in terror, but Cassandra made no sound, her hands reaching up in surrender.

"Never ask me to surrender my wands, got it?" The words came out in a snarl, but as Cassandra nodded slowly, Harry allowed a small smile on his face.

"Alright." He said finally, before pulling the wand away. He carefully slid it back into its sheath, before summoning the discarded blade into his now open hand. Silently, he offered it to Cassandra, who looked at it in surprise.

"You would give me my weapon back?" She asked incredulous, and Harry sighed.

"Of course I would. The only reason I took it was so you didn't slit my throat."He answered, offering a small smile. "Somehow I get the feeling you don't trust magical people." After a long moment, the warrior finally took her weapon back, face contemplative as she slid it back into its sheath.

"You are right." She said carefully, looking at him with an assessing light in her eyes. "Mages are connected to the Fade, and liable to be possessed by demons. And that was even before the war began."

"War?" Harry asked, tilting his head as they started to continue forward on their path once again.

"The Mage-Templar war." Cassandra explained, frowning as she remembered. It felt strange, almost to be explaining the history of mages to a mage, but for as long as he insisted on his claim of ignorance, she would have to continue. "Until ten years ago, mages were kept in Circles, enclosed communities watched over by the order of templars, knights trained to nullify and control mages. For centuries, the mages chafed under their isolation and in some cases mistreatment, until finally they rebelled. The circles declared their independence, and in response the Templars left the chantry and declared war upon them. And now, for the last ten years all of the world except Tevinter, which has always been ruled by mages, has been torn apart between them. The Conclave was meant to change that." She glanced at Harry, only to find him nodding along.

"And this Chantry… is it like a church of some kind?"

"It is the religious body of the Andrastian faith, yes." Cassandra confirmed. "The Chantry holds great political and cultural sway over the world. Before the Templars deserted it, they had a lot of military potential as well, and even now reserve the right to call an exalted march, compelling all Andrastian monarchs to war against heretic factions." Surprisingly, Harry snorted at her words, earning a sharp frown.

"Funny," He commented, an oddly amused smile dancing about his lips. "That sounds almost exactly like the christian church back , mages-or witches and wizards, as we called them-weren't really imprisoned. They just burned us at the stake, until we all withdrew from the world and descended into secrecy." Cassandra felt a pulse of disgust run through her, and she found herself gaping at the man.

"Truly?" She asked, gulping loudly. That… that sounded horrible. Andraste herself had been burnt, and all those responsible reviled for the act. How could these christians of his get away with such cruelty? Mages were still people, no matter their danger.

"Yep." Harry answered simply, not noticing Cassandra's distress at his words. It was strange, but the rather simple way he said it, as if such a result were the most obvious thing in the world, had her stomach roiling in disgust. Could that have been the Chantry, she wondered? If things had gone just a little bit different in their past, could her beloved divine have been the one giving such orders? The thought panicked her, and she pushed it away with all her might. No, she had to have faith. The templars were wrong, no matter how much mages endangered the people with their rebellion. They needed to be controlled, not slaughtered like sheep.

A sudden shout pulled Cassandra from her thoughts, and she looked up to see Harry running ahead of her, towards the telltale green glow of a rift and the people fighting around it. For a second, Cassandra could only stare in surprise, before she surged after him, mentally berating herself for being so distracted as to not notice where they were. Shouting a battle cry at the top of her lungs, Cassandra dove into the fray, tearing through demons with an uncommon fury.

The battle was short, but by the end of it, Harry found himself breathing heavily as he stood over his last enemy's fading body. Before he had a chance to react, however, one of the warriors him and Cassandra had charged to the rescue of, a tall, bald man with extremely pointy ears grabbed him by the wrist with a shout of "Here!" Before thrusting Harry's hand into the glowing green hole in the fabric of reality. Harry's eyes widened as a wave of pain crashed into him, clawing its way through his body as something pulled from the other side. He gasped, struggling to hold himself against the sensation, before grabbing ahold of the mark, the focal point for the feeling, with his magic, and yanking himself back. There was a bright flash, a burst of green fire rushing up his arm, and then Harry was thrown backwards as the rift collapsed in a brilliant explosion.

"Bloody hell," He moaned into the dirt as he landed, his entire body burning. The pain faded after a few seconds, however, and wanting to avoid Cassandra's rough handling, pulled himself up with a groan. "What did you do?"

"I did nothing," The bald man answered, a small smile gracing his thin lips. "The credit is yours." Harry gave him a dubious glare.

"I did that?" He asked voice thick with skepticism. "How?"

"Whatever magic opened the breach also placed that mark on your hand. I theorized the mark could be used to close the rifts that followed in its wake." Harry nodded agreeing with the logic, but something in the way the man said it caught his attention, and careful so as not to alert him, he reached out with his magic. At first, the bald man felt almost normal, albeit with the skin of what Harry assumed to be the fade pressed much more tightly around him than the others, but just as he was about to pull away, he caught something, a faint glimmer of familiarity that made Harry's eyes widen slightly. He was a god. Before he could say anything, however, Cassandra stepped between them, with what was perhaps the first smile he had ever seen her wear.

"Which means it could close the breach itself." She finished, and the bald man nodded.

"Possibly." He then turned to Harry, a faint glimmer of recognition in his eyes and Harry knew the man had sensed his probe. The dark-haired man doubted he knew what exactly Harry had found, but the look was enough to make him tense. "It seems you hold the key to our salvation in your hands." Harry quirked an eyebrow, but said nothing. He knew from personal experience just how difficult handling a god could be, and he didn't particularly care to risk any of the bystanders by calling him out on it.

"Good to know. And here I thought we'd be ass-deep in demons forever." Harry turned to face the man who had spoken, who appeared to be some kind of dwarf, but lacking the usual beard he had come to associate with them during his intermittent interactions with the species. "Varric Tethras," the man introduced. "Rogue, storyteller, and occasionally, unwelcome tag-along." Harry grinned as the last was said with a sly wink towards Cassandra, who seethed at the attention. Something about the dwarf reminded him of his long-lost godfather, and that sparked an instant liking in him.

"And what might such a man be doing with chantry troops?" He asked, jerking his head towards Cassandra. Of course, the woman hadn't outright stated as such, but harry could read between the lines well enough. "A faithful rogue?"

"Hmph. Was that a serious question?" The god-who Harry was beginning to suspect was also the elf Solas- laughed, and Varric grinned.

"Technically, I'm a prisoner here, just like you." Harry raised an eyebrow, but before he could ask any further, Cassandra stepped in, frowning.

"I brought you here to tell your story to the Divine. Clearly, that is no longer necessary."

"Yet here I am. Lucky for you, considering current events."The two glowered for a second, before Harry decided that he didn't particularly care for dragging the two apart and spoke up.

"So, I closed the rift. What now?" Slowly, Cassandra dragged her attention away from Varric, but Harry could still see the frown on her face as she faced him

"Now, we go to meet Leliana."

"What a great idea!" Varric interrupted, smiling widely, and Harry couldn't help but smile as well. Yeah, he liked this one.

"Absolutely not!" Apparently, Cassandra disagreed, as she took a heavy step towards Varric. "Your help is appreciated, Varric, but…"

"Have you been in the valley lately, Seeker?" The dwarf cut her off, face hardening as he glared at her. "Your soldiers aren't in control anymore. You need me." Again they glared, until finally Cassandra turned away with a disgusted sound. Harry's attention on the altercation was pulled away a moment later, however, as the elf stepped up beside him, offering a hand.

"My name is Solas, if there are to be introductions. I am pleased you still live." Harry glanced at the hand, a vicious sense of deja vu sweeping over him. Rather than reject it, however, he shook carefully, even as Varric chimed in.

"He means, 'I kept that mark from killing you while you slept.'" Harry raised an eyebrow. Of course he did.

"You seem to know a great deal about it." He commented, smirking slightly. Sadly, the man didn't rise to the bait, and it was Cassandra who answered.

"Solas is an apostate, a rogue mage." Harry inclined his head in thanks to the warrior, even though it hadn't been the answer he wanted. Still, it was amusing to see when Solas turned to her, a hidden scowl on his face.

"Technically, all mages are apostates now, Cassandra." THe woman glowered back, but Solas ignored her, turning to Harry again. "My travels have allowed me to learn much of the Fade, certainly more than any circle mage. I came to offer my help with the Breach, lest we all be doomed by it."

"I'm afraid I didn't have much choice." Harry said jokingly, but still the elf frowned, turning back to Cassandra.

"Cassandra, you should know, the magic that caused this is unlike any I have ever seen." Harry's eyes narrowed as he heard that. Such a thing was doubtful, at best. "Your prisoner is a mage, but I find it doubtful any mage having such power."

"Understood." The warrior answered, nodding. "We must get to the forward camp quickly." And with that, she set off, the rest of the soldiers milling about and Solas following. Varric, too, started moving, though he paused as he passed Harry.

"Well… Bianca's excited."


End file.
